


Angel Wearing Blood and Shadows

by PassionThorn



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-05-26 15:33:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6245383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PassionThorn/pseuds/PassionThorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After her father declares a city-wide manhunt for the Arrow and his allies, Laurel moves in with Nyssa. While the Heir to the Demon continues to trains her, the pair steadily grow closer and each struggles with the feelings that come with it. Meanwhile, Ra's al Ghul still has plans to force Oliver into assuming his place as the new master of the League of Assassins.</p><p>Reworked and Reposted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Running from the Law

**Author's Note:**

> I'm reposting this because I deleted it once due to lack of inspiration and desire to finish. I recently found inspiration again while writing my other work "Like Magic" so it makes a dramatic return to (hopefully) much joy and appreciation.

Laurel Lance came to a screeching halt at the dead end and turned to find her dad right behind her, his sidearm drawn. Suddenly Nyssa is there in her League uniform, looking like an angel draped in shadows and blood. She disarms Laurel's father and traps him in an arm-bar, forcing him to his knees, Laurel well aware of how lethal those hands are. “Nyssa, don't hurt him.” she says, nearly begs. Her angel locks eyes with her and shoves him to the ground, “We must leave now.” she says, seizing Laurel's wrist. They move through the warehouse, dodging police and search lights from the helicopters. They find themselves outside, Laurel letting go of Nyssa's hand long enough to jam the door shut. She turns to see Nyssa pulling her hood off and setting her bow and quiver down. “What are you doing?” she ask, her eyes cast skywards. Nyssa starts undoing buckles and quickly starts pulling off pieces of her armor, “We are too conspicuous like this, change quickly.” she answers, throwing a bag to Laurel. She glances inside, “You went through my closet?”, returning her attention to the assassin. Laurel's mouth goes dry, as Nyssa is bare from the waist up, her skin seemed to glow in contrast to the simple black bra and her armor. “You wish to have this conversation, now?” Nyssa asked, kicking of her boots. Laurel shakes her head and pulls her mask and wig off.

A short time later and the two walk out of the alley, Laurel in a pair of jeans, Sara's jacket, and a peach button-up shirt, one of her favorites and she can't help but wonder if Nyssa knows that, while Nyssa is wearing her black slacks and that jade top that gives just a hint of cleavage. “My car is just ahead, we will head to my safe-house until the police tire of the search.” Nyssa says as they walk. An officer steps around the corner and both tense before they notice his sidearm is still holstered. “Play along.” Nyssa said, grabbing Laurel's hand again. They keep walking, drawing ridiculously close before the officer notices them. “Sorry, ladies, you can't come this way. We have a...situation, you'll have to move along.” he says, clearly betraying how new he is. The look on Nyssa's face is so out of place it takes Laurel a moment to realize it's concern, “Oh! We were just trying to get to my car. We just wanted to head home.” she says, bringing Laurel's fingers to her lips, kissing them gently. The rookie swallows slightly and glanced in the direction of the car, “Well, since you're leaving the area, I guess it'll be okay.” he says. “Thanks, you're so sweet. Isn't he, babe?” Nyssa ask her. Laurel stood there dumbfounded for a moment, “Yeah...so sweet.” Nyssa giggles and drags her to the car, speeding down the road moment's later. “Nyssa what was that back there?” Laurel ask once the police are well behind them. “Disabling him would have created problems when other officers attempted to contact him and they would have undoubtedly pulled the street camera footage in an attempt to identify his attacker.” Nyssa answered, shifting gears. “Not that, the whole hand holding and calling me babe thing.” Laurel replied. “Public displays of affection make others uncomfortable, his embarrassment will make it harder for him to remember our faces. Given your preferences, I could not be overt so I was forced to create undertones which was enough for his imagination to fill in the blanks.” the assassin said. “Right, cause I'm attracted to men, of course.” Laurel said, the answer sounding less than convincing to her ears.

The car came to a stop in front of one of the more high profile buildings in Starling, the pair slipping inside. A burly man in a suit greeted them at the door, “Miss Raatko.” Nyssa simply nodded and moved towards the elevator, Laurel close behind. “I thought you had left the League, so how do you afford a place like this?” Laurel asked, as the elevator climbed upwards. Nyssa looked at her, “Not all the resources we come into possession of during the execution of a contract are given to the League. Every assassin maintains numerous safe-houses, weapon caches, and hidden cash stocks. I acquired this one during my first visit here.” The elevator opened into a vast penthouse, dominating the entire top floor of the building. Growing up around the likes of the Queens had made Laurel hard to impress with displays of wealth but she still found herself looking around in awe. Nyssa made her way into the kitchen which looked bigger than Laurel's apartment and she followed. “Water?” the assassin asked, grabbing a glass. Laurel thought of asking for something a little stronger then decided that tonight was most definitely not worth falling off the wagon, “That's fine.” The adrenaline was starting to wear off and she already was feeling dead tired. Laurel rolled her neck as Nyssa sat her glass down, tilting her head in question. “Neck's sore, must have been from the fall when Oliver caught me.” she explained.

Nyssa stepped behind her and pulled her hair back, “What are you...” Laurel moaned as Nyssa pressed her thumbs into the skin of her neck. The pain was already gone but Laurel really didn't want her to stop, “The skills to heal and harm are essentially the same, only the implement and the force applied effect the outcome.” Nyssa explained. Laurel reflexively relaxed into the soothing touch, “How long do you think they will look for us?” she asked. “Experience has taught me that such searches usually last until dawn.” Nyssa answered. “I need to let the others know I'm okay.” Laurel said, finishing just as Nyssa produced a cellphone. A quick phone call and she confirms everyone is safe and that they are all going to lay low until the police give up. “Can I stay here tonight? My dad will come looking for me at my place.” Laurel asked. “Of course, you may take the bed. I will take the couch.” Nyssa answered, more quickly than Laurel had expected. "A place this big only has one bedroom?" Laurel asked, clearly skeptical. "I have never required an additional bed, you are the only person besides myself to see this place." the brunette replied. “Nyssa, we can both take the bed. It'll be fine.” Laurel responded, satisfied with the answer.

Nyssa flipped on the light switch, illuminating the bedroom and quickly Laurel realized just how tired she was. Nyssa starts to pull off her blouse when she stops suddenly, “Forgive me, I will change in the other room.” she says, disappearing into the bathroom before Laurel can say anything. Laurel then realizes that she has no clothes but what she's wearing and the jeans, while not uncomfortably tight, are not going to allow her a good night's sleep. “Nyssa, any chance I can borrow something to sleep in?” she ask through the door. “Third drawer on the dresser.” the reply comes from beyond the door. Laurel finds an assortment of clothes she never could imagine Nyssa wearing inside the drawer, assuming she keeps them for undercover work. She grabs an over-sized shirt bearing the name and logo of a local sports team. Laurel changes quickly, shedding everything but her red boyshorts and throwing the shirt on, climbing beneath the sheets just seconds before Nyssa emerges from the restroom, wearing a deep blue set of pajamas. Something flickers across her face so fast Laurel is sure she imagines it. Laurel starts to adjust her pillow and winces again, Nyssa catching the expression, “Another muscle pain?” she ask. “Yeah, my back and shoulders, sometimes I forget how hard on the body this life is.” Laurel answers. Nyssa pulls the sheets aside, staring for a moment longer than is proper at the expanse of bared flesh. “Lay on your stomach.” Nyssa says, the statement nearly sounding like an order. “Nyssa, you don't have to.” Laurel assured her. “In the League we are taught to aid one another in recovering from the stresses of battle, I insist.” the assassin replied. Laurel sighed and shifted into the desired position, her chin resting on her crossed arms. She tensed as she felt Nyssa settle her weight on her hips, pushing the shirt up as she did so, Nyssa whispers something in a language Laurel doesn't understand. A moan escaped her lips as Nyssa ran her fingers along Laurel's spine, the tension melting under those callused fingers. Nyssa finds a particularly large and stubborn spot, “This will hurt for a moment.” she says as her fingers dig in. Laurel feels the pressure seemingly getting worse and then suddenly it seemed to bleed into pleasure. “God, Nyssa! Just keep doing that.” Laurel gasped. The dark-haired assassin continues to find points of pain and tension, her fingers exorcising them with a skill that put professional masseurs to shame. Laurel lies there trying to remember if you can actually orgasm from a massage when she feels Nyssa slide lower, her finger trailing along her lower back towards her ass. Those callused fingers slide along the edge of her underwear then stop suddenly, her weight and touch gone, “Nyssa?” Laurel asks. “Forgive me...sleep well, Laurel.” Nyssa whispers, quickly leaving the room. Laurel adjust her shirt and sits up, opening her mouth to say something but thinking better of it, clearly something was troubling the assassin beyond the night's events.


	2. Behind the Mask

Nyssa couldn't sleep, which was unusual since she had sleep in plush beds and on military cots, not to mention the floors of abandoned buildings and caves. Her mind continued to replay the events of the night, a slight creak of floorboards alerted her to movement. She rolled to her feet, Laurel leaning against the door-frame of the bedroom. “Nyssa, what was that back there?” she asked. The assassin's shoulders slumped and her expression was nearly the same one she had worn when she had learned of Sara's death. “I nearly betrayed my Beloved...my Ta-er al-Asfer.” Nyssa whispered. Laurel closed the distance between them quickly and seized the brunette in a tight hug. She had seen behind Nyssa's mask once when they had found each other at Sara's grave and she was getting another look now, both times speaking of deep and profound sadness and pain. “Shh, you didn't do anything wrong.” Laurel assured her, stroking the ebony tresses. Nyssa turned to look at her, “How can you say that Laurel, I nearly...I...” she trailed off, burying her face in Laurel's shoulder. “Nyssa, I know Sara wouldn't want you to be miserable forever. Moving on isn't a betrayal as long as you never forget her.” Laurel offered, moisture seeping into her shirt telling her the assassin was in tears. “Even...even if that is true, you would have never forgiven me, forcing affection where it was not wanted.” Nyssa mumbled, her voice hoarse from crying. Laurel silently echoed the words, “Nyssa, it's okay.” she said, gently moving the other woman to arm's length. Nyssa sniffled slightly as Laurel wiped away the tears that stained her cheeks. The dark-haired assassin nuzzled into the delicate hand, “Thank you, Laurel, but I need time to make peace with this, I had thought my grief dealt with long ago.” Nyssa stated. Laurel nodded gently, “Okay but at least come back to bed, I don't think you should be alone tonight.” Laurel gulped loudly as she waited for Nyssa to respond. “If you will be alright with that arrangement, I would like that.” Laurel smiled slightly and tugged her friend towards the bedroom. The pair settled in beneath the sheets, a single thought dominating Laurel's thoughts, _Was the affection unwanted?_

Nyssa awoke suddenly, every sense telling her she was alone, the space beside her in the bed empty. Her heart sank, _Laurel was merely showing me a kindness last night and now I have alienated the only friend I have known since Sara._ A faint sound from beyond the bedroom snapped the dark-haired woman out of her depression, a lifetime of living an assassin's trade taking over as she drew a knife from under the bed. Nyssa slipped from room and silently padded down the hall, the scent of food making her realize her mistake. Laurel was in the kitchen, still wearing the shirt from last night and a pair of sweatpants that had also once been Sara's, her mind focused on the pan she was tending on the stove. “I believed you had left.” Nyssa said, hiding the knife behind her leg. Laurel turned and smiled, “I wanted to let you sleep and I thought we could both use a good breakfast. How do you like your eggs?” Nyssa moved to the island that also served as a table, “Scrambled, if you please.” she answered taking a seat. “It's actually the only way I know to make eggs, so that works out perfectly.” Laurel commented. Nyssa chuckled slightly, a sound Laurel wished she could hear more often, “Am I really that funny?” she asked. “It...it was the only way Sara knew to make eggs as well.” Nyssa answered wearily. “Thank you.” Laurel replied which drew a curious expression from the assassin, “Sara and I grew apart a lot before she...went on the **Gambit** with Oliver and it seemed even further when I found out she was still alive. Thank you, Nyssa, for letting me know we still had some stuff in common.” Nyssa's lips turned up at the corners in a slight smile. “And put the knife away, not like I don't know you have it.” Laurel commented, cracking another egg into the pan. The dark-haired woman arched her eyebrow but sat the blade on the table regardless. A few minutes later, Laurel slides a plate in front of her and the pair eat in comfortable silence.

“What is your plan, now?” Nyssa asks, drying off the last plate. Laurel tightened her grip on the coffee mug slightly, “I...I don't know. With my dad going to war with Ollie, I've really only got two options. Go back to fighting crime only in the court room or keep being Black Canary and then it's just a matter of time before last night repeats itself.” Nyssa sat across from her, hand coming to rest atop of Laurel's. “Then there is only one logical choice and I have to say that you have done Sara's memory proud.” Laurel smiles, “Thanks but I'm not going to stop. This city needs people that can get to the criminals that the police can't.” Nyssa licks her lips, “If you continue to be a vigilante, last night proves that your father will not differentiate between you and Oliver if you are arrested.” Laurel nods and moves to trap the other woman's hand between her own, “Speaking of last night, how are you feeling?” Nyssa almost jerks away, it's been too long since someone has cared about her like that. “I am...unsure. I had long believed that my grief had been handled and that being near you would ease the pain of my loss. I believe that perhaps I was wrong, my grief is still raw.” she replies. Laurel traced the edge of her knuckles, “Nyssa, I'm here you whatever you. Now, I have to shower and move my stuff into the Lair before my dad sends a SWAT team there.” Nyssa's brow furrows, “Nonsense, if you wish to move to a place your father can not find then stay here.” Laurel's jaw drops slightly, “Are you sure?” The assassin nods, “Of course, I would never turn you away if you needed aid and beside I have spent my life surrounded by my fellow members of the League, I am not accustomed to solitude despite appearances to the contrary.” Laurel understood then just how lonely Nyssa was not that she was cut off from the only family she had ever known, “It would make it easier to train me, wouldn't it?” she joked. Nyssa gave another slight chuckle, “Go take your shower, Laurel, I will meet you at your apartment in,” Nyssa glanced at the clock that hung on the wall, “an hour to help you move. I need to see to another matter first.” The blonde tilted her head slightly in confusion, “You need the shower, first?” she asked. “Laurel, this place fills the entire floor, do you honestly believe it has only one restroom?” Laurel just shook her head and headed towards the bedroom. Nyssa's expression grew hard as she headed towards the spare restroom.

* * *

 Quentin Lance took another drink of the Pepto-Bismol, _All these vigilantes are giving my ulcers ulcers._ He silently grumbled as he headed back into the squad room. The room was overflowing with officers after the near capture of Queen and his masked pals. _Can't believe Laurel got mixed up in all this crazy._ A female officer came running up, “Sir, someone just called that they saw two masked men on motorcycles headed out of town. Should I grab a few units and check it out?” He scowled slightly, “Go ahead but I don't think the Arrow or his buddies are gonna turn tail and run over a few bullets and some copters.” The woman turned quickly, grabbing officers as she went. Quentin stepped into his officer and flipped on the light, revealing that a woman was seated in front of his desk. “I should have you locked up. What, you come to try and dislocate my shoulder again?” he snarled. “On what charge? I have not been seen committing any acts of vigilantism in your city, so it would be only your word that I have done so and if you did, I am certain an extremely talented lawyer would be here quickly to exonerate me. Also if I wanted your shoulder dislocated I would have done so last night.” Nyssa countered. Quentin moved behind his desk and returned the bottle of medicine to one of the drawers. “Let me guess, Laurel's the lawyer, right?” he asked. “Indeed. One word of warning, from someone who has lost the two most important people in her life, leave Laurel out of your war with the Arrow or you will lose her in more ways then one.” Nyssa stated. “Why do you care? You lose Sara so you just replace her with Laurel, that how it works?” Quentin growled. Nyssa was on her feet before he registered the move and locked eyes with him, the anger he saw there making the hardened cop step back slightly. “Sara was the most important person in my life and she was irreplaceable, you should know that.” Quentin's shoulders slumped slightly at the cutting remark. “Laurel, got away okay, then?” he asked. Nyssa's posture became relaxed again and she made to leave, “She slept with me last night.” she answered over her shoulder. Quentin's anger returned in full and his hand went to his sidearm, vice-like fingers closed around the hand before the weapon cleared the holster and a forearm pressed across his throat. “At my home. Laurel slept at my home last night.” Nyssa clarified, remembering the statement was often a metaphor for sex. Quentin was still seething with anger when Nyssa removed her arm from his throat, “Which is more important, caging the Black Canary or losing Laurel forever? I trust you to make the right choice.” Nyssa grabbed a paperweight and threw it, hitting the switch and plunging the room into darkness. Quentin didn't bother chasing her, the door hadn't been open but he knew he was alone, perhaps more so than he had been in a long time.

* * *

 Laurel already had several boxes packed and ready to go by the time Nyssa arrived at her apartment. “So how did the thing you had to take care of turn out?” the attorney asked, adding another box to the stack. “I am uncertain but time will tell.” the assassin answers. Laurel tucks back a strand of hair that has come loose from her ponytail, “Ever going to be a time when you're not cryptic?” Nyssa simply shrugged. Laurel just shook her head, “Come on, still a few things to box up before we can get moving.” The pair worked in comfortable silence, a difference Nyssa couldn't help but observe between the sisters as Sara had seemed to find silence awkward even during her training with the League. The assassin picked up a picture, the image of the two sisters caught in the throes of unrestrained laughter. “We were on vacation, just before I left for law school.” Laurel comments, noticing the photo. “It's an expression I've rarely seen on Sara's face.” Nyssa comments. “Well, I saw her happy a lot, especially when she talked about you.” Laurel offered, laying her hand on the brunette's shoulder. “Thank you, Laurel.” Nyssa replied, placing in the picture in the box at her feet. “Almost forgot.” Laurel said, heading towards the kitchen. “Forgot what?” Nyssa asked, following her, the box tucked under one arm. The blonde opened the freezer and withdrew two cups, placing one on the counter. “What is that?” the brunette asked, setting the box with the others. “Black and white milkshake.” Laurel answered, wrapping her lips around the straw. “You are attempting to make me fat.” Nyssa commented. “Laurel rolled her eyes, “Please, being a vigilante is a better workout then cross-fit, yoga, and a few rounds in the ring combined.” Nyssa took a sip of the milkshake, What is cross-fit?” Laurel coughed slightly, caught by surprise mid-sip, “I'll explain it later. Think we can fit everything in your car?” Nyssa glanced at the pile, “I believe it will require two trips but the furniture will require outside assistance.” The attorney looked around and shrugged. “Only thing I really like is the couch, everything else kind of came with the place.” Laurel commented. “Then I will have it moved.” Nyssa said. “Nyssa, it really doesn't go with your place.” Laurel argued. Nyssa drank her milkshake, raising an eyebrow. “I'm never going to win an argument with you, am I?” Laurel asked. “Your training will go easier once you realize that.” Nyssa commented, throwing the empty cup away and snatching up a box. “Did you just make a joke?” Laurel asked as the brunette headed out of the apartment.


	3. Late Night Fun

Nyssa sat down the final box in the room that Laurel had claimed as her own. The blonde had already set about pulling items from the other boxes. “Where do think I should set this?” Laurel ask, holding up the picture of Sara . Her phone rings before Nyssa can open her mouth, Felicity on the other end of the line. “Felicity?” Laurel asks, putting the phone on speaker. “Not the best time with the whole vigilante hunt going on but we got a robbery in progress. Oliver's not answering his phone and you're the closest, I'm trying to get John to back you up.” the hacker responds. Nyssa arches an eyebrow at the comment, “Mr. Diggle will not be needed, I will assist Laurel.” Felicity makes a sound of surprise, clearly not expecting the assassin to have stuck around after aiding her friend's escape. “Okay. There's only three guys but still be careful, it's not just the bad guys we have to worry about anymore. Sending you the address.” Felicity says as she hangs up. “Time to go to work. You don't have to come along, this isn't your fight.” Laurel comments as she rips a box open, Sara's jacket laying atop the contents. “You are wrong. I loved Sara and that means I loved the things that she did, including this city and you. I couldn't save her, Laurel, I will lose nothing else that my Beloved held dear.” Nyssa replies as she leaves to retrieve her own equipment.

The pair watch from their perch on the rooftop, the last of the thieves dashing into the alleyway. They share a glance and Nyssa looses an arrow followed quickly by another, the two projectiles finding their marks on the only firearms the thugs are armed with. Laurel opens her mouth and the thugs scramble to cover their ears as her technology-enhanced scream nearly burst their eardrums. The pair drop into the alley as the gang tries to recover. Nyssa waste no time, launching into a tight spin, a kick connecting with the side of the man's head. Laurel launches an uppercut, her baton adding power to the strike, and the thug is lifted off the ground by the force of her blow. Another man rushes towards Nyssa, drawing a knife and launching an almost embarrassingly weak stab towards her. Nyssa barely has to lean out of the way to force the man to miss, her hand coming up to shove him into a wall. He catches himself and turns again, “Bitch,” he snarls as he stabs at her again. The assassin's hand shoots out and seizes his wrist in an iron-like grip, her expression cold, her free hand snapping out to connect solidly with his nose. His hand goes to try and stop the blood-flow as Nyssa snatches the blade away and hurls it further into the alleyway. He looks up just in time for Nyssa's fist to collide with his solar plexus, the breath knocked out of him and the ground rushing up to meet him as she released his wrist. A swift kick to thestomach makes certain the man will not be returning to the fight. She turns just as Laurel's opponent flies into a trash can, a pained groan escaping his lips. “That was easy, almost wasn't worth the effort of putting all this leather on.” Laurel comments. Nyssa nods her agreement and moves to retrieve her arrows. “F, we got those guys taken care of, call the police in whenever you're ready.” Laurel says into her radio. Nyssa retrieves her last arrow and a flicker of movement draws her attention. One of the thugs has risen and drawn a knife, the blade aimed for the blonde's back. “Laurel!” she shouts, already setting her arrow. The vigilante turns in the direction of her attacker, she deflects the attack enough to turn the lethal blow into a painful one as it gashes her side. Nyssa's arrow finds the man's shoulder and he screams in pain, collapsing into a heap on the ground. The brunette is at her side so fast that Laurel almost thinks she's gained some of Barry's speed. Nyssa doesn't even ask if she's okay, just moves her hand and checks for herself, giving Laurel no chance of downplaying her injury. “You must be more careful.” the assassin's voice has a tone to it that Laurel can't place. _If he had taken her from this world..._ Nyssa lets the thought hang unfinished “Yeah, I got it. We got to go.” Laurel hisses as she climbs to her feet, there is no time for a lecture, steadying herself on the alley wall. Nyssa moves to grab the bloody knife, leaning on the arrow in the man's shoulder as she does so, causing him to cry out again. The knife stowed away to be destroyed later, the brunette draws one of Oliver's clever grappling arrows that she has 'borrowed' from the Lair and lets it fly. Laurel gives her a curious look, her friend never having relied on such devices before. “You are in no condition to climb.” Nyssa explains, motioning for her to come closer. Laurel's gasp is more of surprise then pain as Nyssa's arm snakes around her waist and pulls them flush against each other. Laurel tries to ignore how safe she feels as her arms encircle the brunette's neck and the ground falls away as the line retracts.

Nyssa helps her into the apartment and Laurel looks around for a place to sit that doesn't cost more then her car. Nyssa guides her towards the couch and eases her down, heading off to retrieve her medical supplies. Her mask and wig get dropped over the back of the couch and Laurel tries to work her jacket off but the gash makes it more of a challenge then she had expected. Nyssa returns with a bundle, her armor stripped down to it's most basic form. She sets the bundle on the nearby table and helps Laurel ease the garment off, a sympathetic expression on her face with every sound the blonde makes. “Sorry about the couch.” Laurel comments as she pulls her shirt up to reveal the wound. Nyssa unrolls the bundle, a set of needles and thread among other items greeting Laurel eyes. “It is nothing. This could have been far worse.” Nyssa replies curtly, threading the needle. _Wow, she hasn't been this closed off since we first met._ Laurel thinks as Nyssa sprays something on her wound, the skin already losing feeling. Laurel tries to think of something to say, some comment that will break the uncomfortable silence that has settled between the pair, the first time such an occurrence has plagued them. Nyssa sets her mind to the task, trying to ignore the fear that had seized her when Laurel had been hurt and the softness of the skin beneath her fingers. She slowly stitches the wound closed and gently presses a bandage over it. Laurel tries to ignore how the brunette's fingertips feel like they're leaving trails of fire along her skin. The brunette collects the bundle and turns towards her room, the blonde grabbing her wrist. “Nyssa, what's going on with you?” The assassin looked down at the deceptively delicate fingers, Laurel slowly releasing her. “You are perhaps the closest living connection to my Beloved. If I was to lose you, it would be like losing Sara all over again. You are my truest friend in this world, Laurel. Were I to lose you, I fear the grief would drive me mad.” Nyssa answered, quickly leaving the room. Laurel simply sat there, suddenly realizing just how much the assassin feared for her safety. She grunted as she shoved herself to her feet and followed after Nyssa. The brunette was quietly stowing away the bundle and her weapons in the closet. “Nyssa, these things happen. Getting hurt comes with the job but I have the best teacher in the world to make sure I make it out alive.” the blonde says, her hand coming to rest on Nyssa's shoulder. Nyssa's own hand comes to rest atop it, “I just do not wish to lose you. You must be hungry, how do you feel about Turkish food?” Laurel gave her a confused look, “Never had it. You know a place?” Nyssa nodded and began to pull off her armor, “I will fetch ussomething to eat then, you will stay here and rest.” “Nyssa,” Laurel broke the silent after a moment, “I need some help.” The assassin turned and realized that removing several pieces of the Black Canary costume would require assistance until the injury healed. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as the blonde attempted to squirm out of the leather costume, the sight a welcome break from the tension that had saturated the air.


End file.
